


Three is a Magic Number

by 8hephaestion8



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Boyfriends, CMBYN Big Bang, Gay, Kissing, M/M, Male/Male, Sex, Stranded, cmbynbigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8hephaestion8/pseuds/8hephaestion8
Summary: Timothee and Armie meet three times, the first time Armie is bemused, the second time Timothee is confused and the last time there is understanding.Oh, and they get stranded at an airport.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35
Collections: CMBYN Big Bang 2019





	Three is a Magic Number

‘Do I have to go Brian?’

‘Well, you don’t but I think it would be a good networking opportunity. You don’t have anything else on that evening do you?’

Timothée made a face, good job Brian couldn’t see it. He didn’t have anything early evening, but it would be nice to get a long weekend in where he did exactly what he wanted, he hadn’t had a long weekend in months, there was always some thing he to attend. Even if it was just to go a film for a friend or a go see. The last one was a waste of time, again Brian said it would be a good opportunity to meet some industry insiders, instead he met a supercilious bitch who only wanted gossip. He had none to give away, he hadn’t had sex in months, when he thought he might get the chance something prevented anything happening. Wrong circumstance, Ghosted, Un-reciprocated, you name it he had experienced it, it was what three months? Shit no nearer six.

‘Timothée?’

‘OK Brian, I’ll do this one, then I really am going to try to get some time to myself.’

‘You aren’t working at the moment, what do you mean get time to yourself? Now is the time to go out there and put yourself about.’

‘Brian I can’t get laid, that is my primary concern…you want me to go to this thing, I want to go to Billie’s party, get a few drinks, get drunk and get laid…’

Brian cut him off.

‘Go to the event, then go to Billie’s, I don’t know what the problem is. Just make sure it’s someone who won’t blab and use a condom. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

The line went dead, Timothée held the phone away from his face and looked at the screen Brian’s picture was disappearing, yep definitely gone without saying goodbye. The fucker.

Now he had to choose something to wear, he looked around the bedroom, he might have to go to his grandmother’s apartment, she wasn’t there, she was mostly in Florida now for the weather. He kept some clothes there and sometimes he slept there, he mostly stayed with his mom, but when he was ‘entertaining’…who was he kidding…anyway, he would go and see what there was. He’d been sent some things by Virgil, he could wear casual, he had new pair of black jeans, the black Celine boots, he’d find something, there was a black sweater, with chains or something, that might work. He’d go and have a look.

He had a shower, used some Tom Ford shower gel, a quick slick of the same body cream and cologne, passed a brush through the hair and a little pomade just to make it stop from sticking up and out, then jeans, socks, and sneakers, the boots were too smart, dragged on the sweater. Looked in the mirror, did he need a coat? Probably not, he had a t-shirt on under the sweater. Called an uber, another look in the mirror, phone check, bank card check, Amex check, 100 dollars and keys.

‘Bye Mom not sure when I’ll be back, I’m going to Billie’s.’

‘Got any condoms?’

‘Fuck’s sake…’

Timothée was standing talking to David, Louis was somewhere around as was Esther; he’d greeted Esther but didn’t spend much time with her, they didn’t really have that much in common, he liked Louis, he intended to go and have a proper conversation with him. There were also quite a few producers in town, it was that time of year, plenty of networking opportunities. This evening’s gathering was to celebrate Young Directors, a publicity event for the Director’s Guild. He spotted Daniel across the room and excused himself.

‘Jeez, long time, how are you?’

They hugged and Daniel introduced him to his friend, a black guy of his age.

‘This is my friend Suede.’

‘Suede, that’s unusual.’

‘The hair man, the hair.’

‘You white guys always want to touch it.’ Daniel added the comment.

Timothée laughed.

‘I don’t need to touch it, I know how it feels…’ Timothée winked.

They stood talking for a while, Timothée felt comfortable, he shouldn’t really be spending all this time talking to Daniel and Suede, but fuck it he was enjoying himself. It wasn’t often that he went to an industry event and got the chance to spend the evening with likeminded young people. He had to tear himself away, Brian would kill him if he didn’t go speak to some producers, specifically Jeremy and Dede.

‘I’ve got to go network, I’m going to a party afterwards, do you want to come?’

Daniel declined, he and Suede had another thing they had to go to, they left after Timothée went to the other side of the room to speak to Dede. By the time he got there, the group she was with had been joined by other people. He wriggled his way into the centre, put his arm around Dede’s waist to make her turn round, she hugged him.

‘How are you Timothée? Very nice to see you.’ Her voice dropped, ‘These people are boring fucks, let’s go get a drink, come and sit with me, I wonder where Brad is?’ She was scanning the room.

‘I didn’t think he’d come.’

‘Yeah, he’s here with some girl, well she’s not so much a girl, anyway, he’s keeping her on the downlow. Angie is still being a bitch. He can’t afford to run around with…anyway I should keep my mouth shut. Who are you fucking? Last time I saw you you told me you had no-one, that’s not fucking true…is it? Must be banging someone…’

By this time, they had got drinks from a waiter, she pulled him into a corner of the seating at the back of the room near the bar, Brad was already there with his date, the woman, who was attractive, had a pleasant look and was dressed appropriately, he couldn’t see what the problem might be, and then he remembered who Brad was involved with. Across in the next corner sat Armie Hammer with a dark haired man, he hadn’t met Armie before, knew of him of course. He could immediately see why he drew attention and why he couldn’t be ignored. Armie was classically beautiful, Greek statute worthy, and even more so in the flesh. Those two looked very cosy. Timothée turned away, he felt at a bit of a loss, they were all at least five years older than him, richer and more important than him. He decided to stay for fifteen minutes and then go to Billie’s. Fifteen minutes was enough, nobody would miss him. He couldn’t have a proper conversation with Dede there anyway, he’d text her and ask her to lunch, he knew that she and Brad had a treatment that he might be suitable for, Robert Eggers was attached. This wasn’t the right environment or time.

His eye kept drifting, Armie and the dark haired man were engrossed, their body language telling. It was surprising, they were in a dark corner but any one with eyes could see that there was more than general conversation going on, and Timothée had to keep his attention on the conversation in his corner of the seating. He got up to go to the bathroom, he had done his fifteen minutes, he’d go to the bathroom, say his goodbyes and leave. When he got back, there was only Armie.

‘Sorry, do you know where Dede and Brad went?’

‘Sorry I don’t, someone, I think Jeremy, came over and they all left. It’s Timothée…Timothée Chalamet isn’t it?’

He felt gratified. ‘Yes…yes…Armie isn’t it?’

‘Yes…Armie Ham…’

‘Yeah I know…your grand-daddy was rich, we all know who you are and where your money comes from.’

The face shut up shop. 

‘Well it’s true, your family are mega rich. You don’t need to work.

Timothée was surprised at himself, this was rude. He tried to make amends.

‘You have money, you look like a God and you are bastard tall, motherfucker. Us mortals have to make do with what we can, and men like you walk around and piss everyone off. Where’s your boyfriend?’

‘He is not my boyfriend.’

‘He looked like a boyfriend, you were engrossed. I was watching. What happened, were you being too obvious? Where is he?’

Armie stood. He stood a head taller than Timothée, and Timothée swallowed very carefully and Armie was very observant.

‘Do you want a drink?’

‘Why not? I’m not in any rush to leave. Rum and coke, double.’

‘Are you old enough?’

‘For what?’

Armie laughed.

‘Any preference?’

‘For what…’

‘Wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.’

Armie brought back the drinks, he had a brown coloured liquid in his glass, probably whisky or bourbon, and a glass wrapped in a napkin for Timothée.

‘Is this alright? It’s Westerhall, smoother than the normal shit…full fat coke, is that OK?’

‘Perfect. So where is your “friend”.’ Timothée inverted his fingers

‘Like you he went to the bathroom.’

‘No joy? Are you meeting later?’

‘Why are you interested?’

‘I am intrigued…anyway I thought you had a long-term girlfriend?’

‘I do.’

‘Where is she?’

‘She has her own life.’

The room began to thin, it was only booked for two hours, strict, the ticket clearly stated seven til nine, it was just after eight-thirty, only the drinkers and people looking for fucks would be staying now. He’d been there over an hour, and had had several drinks. Timothée floated a question.

‘So are we drinking or fucking?’

Armie chuckled.

‘Direct.’

‘Drinking, eating or fucking, that’s the story of our lives isn’t it?’

‘Timothée, I don’t know you at all. Is this the way you normally approach people?

‘No.’ 

Timothée positioned himself carefully on the seating, sat forward which forced his legs open, his semi-hard dick was evident, the soft stretch jeans outlined everything, he held a gaze and looked directly at Armie.

Armie rose. The face was placid, bland, like he had not seen anything unusual.

‘No doubt I will run into you at some other industry event, good luck.’

Good Luck? What the fuck was that?

Six months later Timothée was in LA, he was filming, a four week shoot, they were working hard, really it was six week shoot but for a number of scheduling reasons, they had to cram everything into four. That meant long days, he started at six every day and they didn’t finish until at least eight, they used whatever light they could and then shot interiors on the lot when the light had gone.

It was another Netflix film, he had a three picture deal, the King had gone well, post production was ongoing, the picture lock was nearly ready so it was on schedule; he had got back into stride with this family drama, another wayward son. He was doing it, wasn’t happy but did it anyway, the last picture in the deal was the one that he had wanted to have discussions with Dede in New York, the one he really wanted to do. The treatment was now a first draft script and going back to Netflix for approval, he was looking forward to that one, this one was a drudge. His cast members were OK, the Director was OK, everybody was nice, the crew were pleasant, but it felt like work, drudgery. He was due something ordinary, this was it. It was a decent story, mother of one son, son takes precedence in the family, father leaves, Mother wakes up, son goes off the rails, a new kinder man comes into the family, all the family secrets come out, incest, lost money, based somewhere poor and rural blah blah blah, the kind of film that would sit amongst all the other Netflix movies not quite dross not quite worth searching out, a solid 6 he reckoned it would score on IMDb, might do 6.5. He was in it after all, he was doing his best to make it interesting, the other actors were doing their best to earn some money, their ideas of commitment differed. He wasn’t quite well known enough to influence them, and anyway they kind of resented his success, he might not be a household name but he was causing waves. He laughed to himself.

It was half five in the morning, he was waiting for his driver, same driver as Beautiful Boy; Simon, a nice person, empathic, they had gone for a few drinks, he was older but clued up on social media, music and films, he would ask for him again. He asked where his name had came from, English mother he was told. That morning he had a banana in his hand, he needed something in his stomach before he got on set, because once he was on set he was normally taken straight in to makeup and hair, they tamed the hair every morning, by lunchtime he had to go back. He asked them why they didn’t just perm it, they told him that he would have to grow out a perm out, better to wreck it with a hairdryer and product for a four week production. They told him not to wash it every morning, it was beginning to feel nasty, but looked OK on film. He couldn’t even have a coffee, he was given a bottle of water, two slices of toast with honey, then final makeup was applied. Then into his trailer, costumes for the day were laid out, he checked the scenes, checked the labels, making sure he got dressed in the right thing. One day he got dressed in the wrong thing and everyone was wild, they had to re-shoot the whole scene. He was three weeks in, only one more week, he could go see Luis his barber for a treatment when he got back to New York. New York, he couldn’t wait to go home, LA was foul. The people were bland on purpose, nobody said a word they believed in, everything was a promise not fully delivered, the food was all about how it looked on the ‘Gram, nothing was real, image was everything, it was shit. He’d told Will his best friend, as much, he just laughed at him, told him this was the career he had chosen and he had to live with it.

He was due to finish on Thursday, a week later, there was a bbq at the the producer’s house on the Sunday before, Sunday was the only day off, he didn’t want to go. Brian told him he had to. Fuck Brian, he always said the same thing, better go, just in case, better not risk upsetting him. He just wanted to sleep, spend the whole day in bed. Sleeping. Then he would be able to manage the rest of the shoot, he was tired. There had been a couple of late night shoots, followed by normal starts, he needed to catch up, he also needed the alone time.

He slept in late, the bbq was not until two, it wasn’t going to be just the film’s cast and crew, Bruce had some friends coming too. Timothée wasn’t looking forward to it. He walked around his apartment, dressed just in his boxers and a t-shirt, made some coffee, sat on his sofa, looked around, he hadn’t really even had time to look at the apartment…he found he had a nice living area, the kitchen area was good, there was even kitchen utensils, but he lived off location catering. When he got in each evening he had a cup of hot chocolate…a sachet and milk…checked his phone, looked around the internet, checked the script, learnt what he needed, and went to bed. Saturdays were half day on set, correcting things from that week or short scenes, the afternoons spent catching up with cast or crew, early dinner and back to the apartment to watch a film or documentary, something which was nothing to do the content of the film he was making, or a chance to catch up with a new film.

Sundays were for sleeping, washing, catching up with friends, phoning his mother, emailing Brian, doing ‘work’ related stuff, paperwork and then by late afternoon, back to his film schedule, looking at what was due that week, reviewing the script, sending texts and messages about the coming week, it was endless. He would be glad when it was over. He literally only really got Saturday afternoon and evening, only Saturday evening was entirely at his disposal.

It was time to get dressed. He was lucky, he had a pair of tailored black shorts, a long sleeve Y-3 t-shirt and Y-3 white sneakers all sent to him because the companies knew he would get on someone’s IG and this would be one of those occasions. He normally just wore trackies, t-shirt and hoodie to work, the first clean things that came to hand, mostly non-designer so it didn’t matter if they were ruined and anyway, once he got there he was hardly ever in his own stuff. He had washed and conditioned the hair, it was a bit wild, he looked a bit unfinished, hadn’t shaved either. Did the normal checks, phone, bank card, cash and keys. Another quick glance at the mirror by the door as he went out, Simon would be waiting for him. Poor Simon, he normally got the weekend off, but like everyone else he would have to go to the bbq, it’s wasn’t downtime it was work. The apartment wasn’t really an apartment, it was a small house in a discreet area of LA, the size of a large apartment two bedrooms, a living space and an eat-in kitchen, a large ensuite bathroom with toilet and a separate bathroom with shower and toilet. Closed the door, walked down the path and onto the street. Simon was waiting, as ever punctual.

‘Hey, how are you?’

‘Fine Simon, how are you?’

Timothée got into the front, it was a grey Mercedes, a couple of years old, exterior hosed and the interior cleaned every day, even when they had a night shoot, Simon did his chores on a daily basis and never missed, that was how he got his work. He was reliable, pleasant, tactful, nobody complained about him, he was in demand.

‘Do you know who will be there?’

‘Not sure, Timothée.’

‘Is everyone coming?’

‘It won’t be everyone. Not everyone was invited, all the cast and the senior crew, probably no more than thirty people.’

‘Oh…I thought it was going to be everyone…’

Timothée pondered, should he dress more formal?

‘Wonder if I should go back and put something less casual on?’

‘Nah…it will be relaxed…Bruce is a casual guy…he likes everything to be laid back, no formality, it will be a regular bbq, kids running round, burgers, ribs, salad nothing fancy, it will be cool. They do everything themselves, no help, don’t worry.’

‘He said he was inviting some friends, who are they?’

‘Varies…depends on the cast, some of them are not really close friends, just people he knows that will get on with each other or people he wants to introduce to each other. He’s a bit of a match maker, and successful at it. He’s Jewish, views it as his role in life to match everyone up, he’s a producer, that’s what he does at work and at home. His dinner parties are legendary.’

Now Timothée was biting his lip, he didn’t want to be matched up. He was quite happy as he was, the sex thing was problematic, very intermittent, but that was really a function of his work, unless he dated people on set because he was hardly around at home. He came back to New York from wherever he had been working for several weeks and then he was gone again. It was tricky, but he could not complain, he was working, other people in the profession were not so lucky. He wasn’t keen on the dating people from the set, in the end it was the same problem, intense for a few weeks and then never seeing each other, he had tried it a couple of times, not satisfactory at all, he could wait, he knew that when he met the right person it would be easy, well at least easy in the sense of knowing that this was your person, the tricky thing was logistics. There was time, he was only twenty-three, plenty of time.

Simon put on some music, Technicolors or some similar shit.

‘Where’s my playlist?’

‘It’s my turn.’

Simon hated Rap and Hip Hop, they agreed to take turns and alternate their music, sometimes they compromised and just put on a Spotify playlist, top 100 or new releases or even 40s and 50s, like Doris Day or Frank Sinatra. Simon got his way, so the shit stayed on, but It was a nice day, not too warm, good for a bbq.

‘Won’t you be too hot in that?’

‘Nope.’

‘Keep forgetting you have no flesh…’

Timothée was tallish but of small frame, very slim, Simon was right he carried a small amount of flesh, it was the one thing that he accepted but did not like about himself, he would like to be about another 10 pounds, he couldn’t keep it on, as a result he was always cold.

They arrived at the house, well at the gate, Simon punched in the code that had been on the invitation and the gate opened, he drove in, there was a second security measure, a security guard was signing everyone in.

‘Thought you said it was going to be a simple affair?’

‘It will be once we have got in, he has some very important guests, he can’t afford to have anyone just coming in.’

‘I thought you said it was just cast, senior crew and a few friends…’

Simon was silent. Timothée began to fret.

‘Hi Timmy, Simon come in, come in, what do you want to drink? We got beer, wine, coke…there’s some other drinks as well if you want them, come in come in.

Bruce had a few other words for them, showed them where everything was and then left them, off to greet another new arrival, someone neither of them recognised, Timothée got a beer, Simon got a coke, he might allow himself a beer once he had had something to eat.

Bruce’s wife was holding court over at the grill, they used real coal and a couple of barbeques, proper old fashioned round pans with lids, one lid was down, apparently that had two whole chickens, the other pan had burgers and ribs, back in the kitchen were burgers that had already been cooked, kept warm on the griddle of one of the stoves, the bbq taste preserved.

‘Hey Timmy, come and join us.’

The gang had all arrived, he went over, Simon followed, they were sitting on the grass, blankets were strewn about the place…it was a large garden, there were also wooden seats and benches. Timothée dropped down to a blanket and promptly bounced into Armie who was sat behind him talking to his own group of people. They glanced at each other, they didn’t pretend.

‘How’s things?’

‘OK Timothée.’

‘Working?’

‘Yes.’

‘What on?’

‘Netflix series.’

‘Really, whose directing?’

Armie named a respected director who had form, that is, he turned out good stuff.

‘How’s it going? Where are you in the schedule?’

‘Another week, then I am going back to New York.’

Timothée held his counsel, he would not say anything and invite some expectation, Armie had declined him, he was going to hold back. Armie saw the hesitation.

‘I wish I had stayed that night.’

‘You don’t have to say that, it’s OK.’

‘No I mean it.’

‘Do you want something to eat Timmy, we are going to get some more burgers.’

‘I’ll get something in a minute, I’m OK for now.’

He turned back, but Armie was engaged in a conversation with a blonde woman, a very attractive blonde woman who Timothée thought he recognised, then he did recognise her from the gossip rags, she was the girlfriend. Armie looked past her at Timothée, a second longer than he should, and then turned his attention back. Timothée got up and joined his friends from the film.

A short while later, he felt a hand on his ass. He knew who it was.

He didn’t turn round, Armie could go fuck himself.

Timothée moved out of the kitchen and back in the garden, the DP was standing over by one of the bbq.

‘Had your fill?

‘Yes, I can’t eat much, tend to have one part of the meal, rest, then go back and finish off.’

‘I wish I could do that.’ The man wasn’t that big but he could lose what Timothée wanted to gain.

‘It’s a knack and also a nuisance because sometimes I don’t get the chance to go back and then I am hungry for the rest of day.’

They got into a conversation, about the film, then the business, then more personal.

‘Where’s your wife?’

‘She’s over there talking to Dannie…Dannie, over there…oh you may not know her. Armie’s girlfriend.’

‘Oh…so he _is_ bi-sexual.’

‘Gay.’

‘What?’

‘Yes.’

‘What?’

‘Are you deaf?’

‘Is he gay?’

‘Were you born yesterday? Yes Gay. He has a beard.’

‘The Fuck.’

‘He’s a good looking man, I’d fuck him but I am not his type. You are exactly his type.’

He went on to name a couple of actors who were similar in looks and body shape to Timothée, both of whom were known to have had ‘something’ with Armie, then he dropped quite a few pieces of gossip and information about Armie which apparently everyone in the business knew except for Timothée.

Timothée was still stuck on the page which confirmed Armie was Gay.

‘Excuse me.’ He walked off.

Timothée walked over to Armie who was talking to Bruce, his wife and the girlfriend.

‘Can I talk to you?

Armie looked him up and down, rude and sexy.

‘Well are you coming or not?’

Timothée walked off into the kitchen.

The girlfriend laughed.

‘You better go Armie.’

‘That was disrespectful.’

‘Yeah, I know, you have that effect on me. You put your hand on my ass, that was also disrespectful.’

There was a kind of stand-off, they both looked defiantly at each other. Sparks were flying.

‘Are you really gay or just playing?’

‘Really Gay.’

‘Why do you have a girlfriend?’

‘Kind of expected, everyone knows, we have a contract, the contract will finish in a few months. I will stay _single_ for a while then get another contract.’

‘Why?’

‘Why? Because I want to keep working.’

‘Just stay off Social Media. Disappear.’

‘If only it were that simple. How old are you?’

‘Twenty-three.’

‘That was a rhetorical question.’

Someone came into the kitchen, saw that they were engrossed, apologised fetched a drink and went back out.

‘Come on, we can’t talk here.’

Armie took his arm and dragged him in the back of the house, along a corridor which ran across the back of the house, there was room with a two seater sofa, a couple of chairs, a table and a TV, it looked like the maid’s living room.

‘This is the maid’s room.’

‘It isn’t, it’s used by Miranda when she is being domesticated.’

‘You know this house very well.’

‘My Dad is friends with Bruce. I know this house very well.’

Timothée looked around, there were blinds on the windows, he shut them and then shut the door, turning the button so it was locked.

‘What are you doing?’

‘huh…what do you mean?’

‘You’ve shut the blind and locked the door.’

‘Yes. Sit down.’

‘What?’

‘Sit down.’

Timothée pulled up a chair sat at the table in front of Armie, crossed his legs, ankle on knee, leaned forward.

‘So how does this bearding thing work. I might get one.’

Armie laughed.

‘You don’t need one, yet.’

‘When should I get one?’

‘When you get a big role or you start fucking a man.’

‘I don’t fuck girls.’

‘I mean when you actually get a boyfriend.’

‘How do you know I haven’t had a boyfriend.’

Armie looked at him.

‘If you are fucking around, you might need a girlfriend, but my guess is you don’t have sex on a regular basis and certainly not with the same person on a regular basis. You’re too busy. And not well-known enough’

The conversation had turned a bit serious, Timothée wasn’t really listening.

‘Do you like me?’

‘What do you mean? I don’t know you.’

‘Would you like to fuck me?’

Armie was contemplative.

‘I would, but I won’t’

‘Why not?’

‘Well for one thing, it wouldn’t be appropriate.’

‘I am old enough. If you don’t think I’m attractive…’

‘I didn’t say that…’

The room was quiet again.

‘I think we should join the others.’

‘How old are you Armie?’

‘Thirty-two.’

‘When did you know?’

‘…When I was six, I fell in love.’

Timothée laughed.

‘What happened?’

‘I hero-worshipped an eleven year-old. I loved that boy for the next five years, then he told me to fuck off. Kind of put me off him. I tried to transfer my adoration…to a girl. Couldn’t get with that, it wasn’t the same, I couldn’t get excited in the same way. It wasn’t sexual I was too young, sex was not a thing at that time. Then it occurred to me that perhaps I didn’t like girls. I tried to kiss girls, I tried to fuck them. When I was sixteen, I gave up and started fucking boys, and I have not stopped. What’s your story?’

‘I prefer men, but I fuck women from time to time. I don’t restrict myself, I like having an option, even if they drive me nuts. They are not logical. I don’t have to explain myself with a man, If I don’t want to do something I don’t have to go in detail about the reasons for and against. If I want to fuck, that it is all there is to it.’

‘Have you ever been in love Timothée, really in love?’

‘Well no…no…Have you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you in love now?’

Armie was suddenly very quiet.

‘Who is he?’

‘Unobtainable.’

‘What does he do?’

‘He’s in the business’

‘Younger or older?’

‘Younger. I am not saying any more. We should go back. People will be wondering where we are.’

‘Never mind that, they won’t miss us.’

‘My girlfriend might.’

‘She isn’t your girlfriend.’

‘She is. She is, and a fair number of the people out in the garden think she is. Look, most of them don’t know what to think, if they have thought about it at all. They may have heard some gossip, they don’t know and now they have seen me with her, there will be doubt. That’s all there needs to be, uncertainty.’

‘Do you fuck her?’

‘No.’

‘Good.’

‘What do you mean good?’

‘We are going to date.’

‘Really?’

‘God, I don’t even know why I am saying this, last time we met, you dumped me.’

‘I didn’t dump you, because we were not in a relationship, and I did have a previous engagement.’

‘Come for a date with me.’

‘Persistent.’

‘We could go now, let’s go watch a movie. Eat popcorn, drink beer and make out in the back seat of a cinema.’

Armie laughed out loud.

‘That is not happening. People know me in LA and you are becoming well known, we cannot just buy tickets at a cinema sit in the back with our hands in each other’s trousers, kiss and make out.’

‘Oh, so you like hard-core making out.’

‘Fuck’s sake.’

Armie got up, and unlocked the door.

‘Are you coming?’

‘You go first. I’ll join you, where is the bathroom?’

Timothée hung back. So Armie was not in love with the Boyfriend, he said the person he was in love with was unobtainable, but the boyfriend was obviously obtainable, they were dating and probably fucking, what more might he want? He justified why it wasn’t a good idea to make out in a public place. That meant he was contemplating things that he had no business contemplating; he had a girlfriend and a boyfriend and he had contemplated making out with Timothée.

The rest of day, he made sure he was always in Armie’s eyeline, across the kitchen when Timothée went to get another cold beer, he politely asked Armie if he could get into the fridge, dropped the bottle opener and bent over in front of him, straight over presenting his ass. Rose up, opened his bottle and without a word went across to the bin, lifted the lid and threw away the cap, ‘remembered’ there was recycling, bent over again, fetched it out, put it in the recycling bin, put the bottle opener on the counter in front of Armie but behind the people he was talking to, caught his eye and left the kitchen to go back into the garden.

When Armie came out, Timothée was lying on the blanket in such a way that his skinny but clearly masculine body was on display, the leg angled upright and his crotch visible, the seam of the shorts hitched in such a way that his cock was showing.

‘OK…you’ve shown him everything now.’

Simon spoke softly.

‘If he has not caught on, he is stupid, if he is ignoring you he doesn’t like you. You don’t have to do anything more.’

‘He’s already pretending that he hasn’t noticed. I haven’t finished with him yet.’

Timothée got up and went over and introduced himself to the girlfriend. Armie was across the garden, talking to the other executive producer, the one who actually held the purse strings, he had his back to Timothée and by virtue of this, his back to the conversation which Timothée started with Dannie.

‘Hi, it’s Dannie isn’t it ? Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier, I just had to talk to Armie, someone told me something very interesting.’

‘Yes, he’s Gay. You don’t have to pretend, you are doing everything to attract his attention. He won’t fall for it. People throw themselves at him all the time. You can go and play elsewhere.’

‘Elsewhere, that is cultured and polite. Where did you go to School?’

Dannie looked at him, then looked around to see if there was anyone else she could talk to. It would be a bit obvious if she left, and now she was cross.

‘You look cross, don’t worry I won’t take him away today. You can leave with him, today….’

Now Dannie looked into Timothée’s face, she was looking to see if this sweet looking boy was serious.

‘How many men have you slept with?’

‘None. They were all boys by comparison. Armie will be my first.’

Dannie nearly broke her neck laughing.

‘He has a boyfriend.’

‘Who he doesn’t love. How long has he been seeing him?’

Dannie looked at him. 

‘What has he been saying?’

‘Nothing really, how long is your contract for? When is he going to be free?’

This time Dannie walked off.

Timothée broke into a smile, he flashed it at Armie who had caught Dannie walking off. Armie could tell she wasn’t pleased, he excused himself and caught up with her.

‘What’s the matter?’ He took her arm and lead her to quiet bench, and drew her close to him, they looked like the perfect couple, he was touching her and smiling softly.

‘You can stop with that crap, everyone knows.’

‘Got to put on a good show, not everyone knows, there is still doubt. What’s wrong?’

‘That boy.’

Armie laughed.

‘He ain’t subtle.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The end of the contract is coming up, how are we going to handle it?’

‘Are you turning soft? This is already agreed.’

‘I know I know…but I feel like everyone knows that we are going to break up and when, and how it will happen.’

Armie was baffled. His pseudo girlfriend was showing signs of jealousy and insecurity.

‘How many of these contracts have you done? Are you trying to make me feel guilty?’

‘No. That boy has got me wild. He is making me think…I won’t do another one of these…I give…’

‘Yes, you will. The lure of the money and the red carpet is like nectar to you. You won’t be able to give it up. How else are you going to get money for nothing, get so many freebies and sleep around on your boyfriend…’

He got up.

‘You signed the contract, now you have to complete it. This is our last public engagement, you won’t have to put up with me anymore.’

‘Timothée.’

‘Yes Armie.’

‘Do you want a lift, I am going.’

‘Simon is driving me.’

‘Simon is driving us.’

‘OK…’

After Timothée had said his goodbyes he went outside and waited for the car to be brought round. Armie joined him, a hand placed just so in his back.

‘Don’t take this to mean anything.’

‘What?’

‘This.’

‘What are we doing?’

Armie kept his mouth shut. When the car came round, he got in the front with Simon and immediately started a conversation which excluded Timothée. Timothée got his phone out and started looking at his social media. There was tension in the car.

‘Who’s getting off first?’

Armie looked in the mirror.

‘We are going out, drop us off at Timothée’s, he needs to change.’

Timothée looked back at him in the mirror. He winked at him. Simon saw the interchange and kept schtum.

‘What time are you due tomorrow morning?’

Timothée shuffled in his seat, it was a reminder, don’t fuck around on the job.

‘Who are you speaking with Simon? You’re my driver. I came with you, and all of a sudden you are taking orders from Armie?’

‘You were making it quite obvious you wanted his ass, I was only complying with your wishes.’

There was a moment’s silence and then everyone cracked up.

‘I am coming for you at five o’clock, Armie lives a bit out of the way from location, don’t drink any more and don’t stay up all night. Take your script with you, you have some things to look at.’

‘Fuck’s sake.’

‘What?’

Timothée went back to his phone.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside Timothée’s house.

‘This is nice, they have spent a bit of money on the ‘Star’.’

There were words forming in Timothée’s mouth, he thought better and just curled his lip. He could see that Simon was thinking this could be interesting. He dismissed him.

‘Five o’clock…How do you know where Armie lives?’

‘I don’t. But he also has a reserved suite at Sunset. I suspect he will take you there. He doesn’t know you. Bye.’

They got out, he drove off. The fucker, he was going to get his ass sacked.

‘Is that true?’

‘Probably. If I decide to fuck you.’

At this Timothée was immediately all anticipation. He stopped thinking straight. His mind was running on all kinds of scenarios. The first of which was that Armie would join him in the shower, he’d drop his clothes as he walked up to the bedroom, Armie would follow him, and watch as he divested himself of the last of his clothes…he would watch Armie get naked…and…

‘Get a move on. I’ve tickets for a private showing of The Irishman. I don’t want to miss it.’

‘Oh! OK!’

Timothée got the front door open and walked into the entry hallway, emptied his pockets, threw his things on the hall table, Armie side-eyed him for his insouciance, Timothée carried on; went up the hall to his bedroom and en-suite.

‘There’s things to drink, the studio bought some things for me when I arrived, help yourself.’

Armie took a turn around the living space, found the kitchen and poured himself a coke, set it down then looked for the bathroom. He wanted a piss. He wasn’t going down the corridor, there was going to be one around here, went back out of the kitchen and found it behind what would have been a door out to the garden. He pissed, washed his hands and came out, he could hear the shower running. Devilment took him. He went into the bedroom. Timothée came out of the bathroom. Armie was lying on the bed naked. He did not act surprised.

Timothée was kneeling on the bed, when his phone rang. Armie was methodically fucking him.

He took the call, it was Brian.

He slid off Armie and the bed, and stood up.

‘What do you mean?’

Sat down, things were nicely swollen, got back up. Armie put his arm around his waist, grabbed hold of his dick and started squeezing it, he had to fold himself into Armie it felt so good. Armie started fucking him again. He groaned.

‘What?’ He was short breathed. Little silent huhs were coming of his mouth.

He could hardly speak, Armie felt so good. There was an especially loud huh as Armie began to fuck him hard and started to make some noise too.

‘That’s nothing, the window is open…oh shit…’

‘What, the breeze caught me, I’ll just go and close the window.’

Armie took the phone out of his hand and threw it onto the bed, luckily it landed screen down, speakers away.

‘Stay still, I am close…’

‘Fuck Armie.’ Timothée managed to twist himself round, his mouth open hinting that he wanting to be kissed. Armie pulled out and obliged, then pushed Timothée down on the bed, the phone was underneath him.

They forgot it was there. Timothée laid on his back and opened his legs, Armie made the noise which is associated with desire, climbed on and began to fuck him again, this time they were both sighing, moaning, groaning, their bodies were slick with moisture variously sweat, pre-come and lube, the bed was rumbling and bouncing rhythmically. Armie began making a strange throaty murmuring sound.

‘Are you alright?’

Armie did not speak he began to emit an unmistakable orgasm signal culminating in a very loud grumble followed by ‘Fuck’ as he came. Timothée thought about his options, he could help himself, make Armie give him a hand, literally, or just enjoy the fact that he had been fucked by Armie Hammer and make the most of being surrounded by a soft golden bear. Unfortunately, there was an unreal noise coming from somewhere, Armie was laid out on top of him, neither was not going anywhere.

In the throes of their fucking, the phone speaker had been switched on and a muffled exasperated person could be heard.

Armie dragged the phone from under Timothée’s back.

He switched it off.

‘I enjoyed that.’

Armie peeled himself off Timothée’s body and lay back down again, the sylph was strangely comfortable, he seemed to be skin and bone.

‘Shall we go to the screening?’

Armie had shifted himself onto his side, condom thrown in the bin, he was stroking Timothée’s nipple with his thumb. It seemed like he was thinking through his options, stay or go? He made the decision Timothée’s.

‘Why not? What time does it start?’

Timothée moved out of reach, Armie was keeping him aroused.

‘We got perhaps half-an-hour.’ 

Filled with meaning, something a now brisk Timothée did not understand.

‘Get up. I want to see that film, we can go get some dinner after.’

‘Mmm...OK…’

Timothée had a bad feeling.

‘Who’s going to be there?’

‘Strong industry presence.’

‘Can we go in together?’

Armie answered nonchalantly.

‘How else are we going to go in? You are my plus one. You can’t arrive without me.’

‘What about Dannie?’

‘I told you, she has her own life. Anyway, today was our last public day. There’ll be nice pictures of us together in the garden on Instagram already, everyone will think we are still together.’

Something was picking at Timothée, he got up, had a quick shower, got out and as he went out into the bedroom, felt the sharp flash of Armie’s hand on his ass.

‘Ouch!’

‘Nice ass. Do you have any boxers?’

‘None that will fit you.’

‘’Don’t keep any spare…?’

Timothée gave him an old-fashioned look.

‘I don’t have the need and I also don’t go around sleeping with all and sundry.’

‘Calling me all and sundry…cute.’

They had been having this conversation in the nude. Strangely the eyes die not drift downwards, the ease was perceptible.

Armie had no choice but to wear what he had previously been wearing minus underwear, at least his body was clean. Timothée pulled out his best pair of black jeans, an LV t-shirt and hoodie from the latest resort wear collection, both brand new and sharp in style.

‘Won’t you be…’

‘No. Have you called an uber?’

‘Simon’s outside, I texted him, it’s safer he takes us. He can keep his mouth shut and his car is not known.’

‘OK. So who is going to be there?’

Armie went on to name the cast, producers, director, distributors, select journalists and some key people at Netflix. It seemed to be a very closed event.

‘How did you get a ticket? You aren’t anything to do with that film.’

Armie tapped his nose.

The bad feeling remained.

When they got there, the Boyfriend was present and making it evident to Timothée that he was a person of influence besides which he and Armie were great friends. He knew now where the tickets had come from. Armie spent most of the time before the film talking with him, they were in a group, again Timothée was the youngest person there, and he looked and felt it. No-one spoke to him, only an odd ‘Hi, are you?’, nobody stuck around to converse with him. He stood outside the talking groups, felt like outcast, looked like someone Armie had just picked up, out of place and out of humour. Armie didn’t seem bothered and was largely ambivalent.

‘I’m going to get a drink before the film starts, what do you want?’

Timothée wanted to say get the hell out of here, held his tongue and meekly said.

‘Coke.’

‘No rum?’

‘No rum. Working tomorrow remember.’

‘What’s the matter?’

A small pout.

Armie brushed his hand.

‘Come with me.’

When they got to the bar, Armie got in close and tried to talk with him.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘I don’t feel comfortable…I feel like your twink pick-up.’

‘Timothée, everyone knows who you are, what are you talking about…Oh! Let me introduce you.

Someone had bounced into Timothée, deliberately.

The Boyfriend.

Timothée was minded to give him some lip.

Armie saw the lip was coming and trod on his foot.

‘Mark, this is Timothée, Timothée this is Mark.’

The Boyfriend had also seen the lip was coming and turned on a megawatt smile. Timothée felt sick, now he was going to have to be polite.

‘I’m going to the bathroom.’

He turned his back on them, slipped round the crowd who were beginning to queue to get into the screening room, turned down the corridor, back to the entrance, and left the venue.

For the duration of the screening, he was getting texts. He didn’t answer them. Armie could fuck off.

He packed up his things and booked himself into a motel, a good one but a motel – nobody recognised him. His non-industry friends had mentioned it, he knew it would be alright, there was a diner attached, and, he was only there until Thursday night, possibly Friday night then he was going to fly straight back to New York. The film company would sort everything out, he sent a text to tell the production accountant and his personal assistant he had moved out, they would pass on the message to the right people.

Both he and Armie discounted was how strongly they felt about what had not happened, because really, nothing had happened which was a problem, but of course plenty had happened to create a problem. You can only wish for someone to fuck off if you care enough to want them to fuck off in the first place. He didn’t even know what he was cross about. The sex was good, the little amount of conversation had gone well. He had wanted to see that movie but now he was pissed off and he couldn’t put the words to it. Armie’s life was complicated, beard, boyfriend and he fucked people he hardly knew. That was fucked up. He had to leave that shit alone. He laid on the bed, called room service, had some hot chocolate and a piece of cake sent up, opened his iPad and started reading the script revisions he had been sent that morning. Got through them, sent a text to Simon with the motel address. Then thoughts of Armie returned, this would not do at all.

The rest of week went well, he had an end in sight, the schedules all worked and there were no problems. He finished on set around nine on Thursday night, said his goodbyes and went back to the motel. He was good and tired; after a shower he had a tasty meatloaf, gravy and mashed potatoes dinner, went back to the motel intending to catch up on emails, there was one from his Mom outstanding, and he also had to get back to Brian, instead he fell asleep with the phone on his chest. At three in the morning, it began vibrating gently. He was dozy with sleep so half rose, the phone fell off. He swept around the bed for it, picked it up just as the light went out, it was another text message or several, not a call. Texts could wait, if someone had died it would have been a call. He turned off all notifications and went back to sleep.

When he woke, he picked up the phone to see who it was although he knew, Armie. Confirming he was flying back to New York the same day, and would he like to meet up…over several messages.

‘No I fucking don’t.’ There was no-one to hear, it was still satisfying.

He went back to sleep, he didn’t have to vacate the room until twelve, it was only eight. He woke again around 10.00, swung the legs out of bed, he had slept more or less ten hours and felt refreshed. Had another quick shower and scraped up his clothes, throwing some of the dirty tracksuit bottoms into the bin, the rest in his suitcase. They were cheap, left over from the days when he bought all his things himself. Most of his new daywear was designer and would not be hitting the bin anytime soon. Checked the bathroom, nothing left there, gathered up his iPad, laptop and phone, and went to set. There was going to be a going away lunch for himself and a few others, the Director had some scenes with other actors and few location shots to do and would not be done until the following week. The final cast party would take place when he was already in New York, he wasn’t going to hang around until the following week for a party, he might send them a message on WhatsApp that they could play to the crowd when all the speeches were being made. The lunch was OK, his flight was seven, he had to leave at at half-four, Simon was prompt.

‘Well Timmy, how was it this time?’

‘I won’t use you next time, you’ve become a very mouthy fucker.’

‘Brian’s already emailed me your schedule for next year.’

‘Things can be re-arranged. I can talk to him.’

‘Yeah, same as how you are going to talk Armie and get him to do what you want.’

‘We aren’t speaking.’

‘You mean you aren’t speaking to him. I would have warned you about him, but your ass was talking.’

‘Well it has shut up shop now.’

‘Does Armie know?’

‘Neither I nor my ass are talking to him’

The conversation continued in similar genial form until they got to the airport. There were a lot of people standing around, this did not bode well.

‘Wait for me Simon. I’ll just check what is happening, park in the cell phone car park.’

‘I have another pick up at six-thirty, my riding partner for the next six weeks, try to be quick. I don’t want to be late.’ He named another fairly famous actor, Lance Duval, who had recently appeared in a successfully revamped soap.

‘Well it looks like there is a problem, your next ride or die is probably also going to be late.’

After checking Timothée came out of the main airport concourse and went to the car park, walked around, texted and then found Simon.

‘Airport network has gone down, it’s not safe to fly.’

‘What do you want to do, I just got a message, Lance has delayed, he’s not coming today.’

‘I don’t know. There are rescheduled flights which need to be sorted out before mine, but I don’t want to leave the airport because I might get a seat on another airline. Shit! Quick…quick, let’s go…come on.’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Never mind what’s the matter…Fuck…Fuck…Fuck… He’s here.’

Simon was concerned, Timothée’s face was showing a range of emotions… Panic…Lust…Bewilderment…Certainty…and back to Panic.

He was half in and half out of the car. He tried to show calmness, one leg was in the car, one hand was groping for something to hold onto inside the car; as Armie approached he got out the car and attempted to rest one foot on the sill of the car and one elbow on the roof in a pose that he hoped suggested he was at ease with himself.

‘Get off the car, I don’t want to have to go and wash it again, get off!’ Simon hissed at him.

A crazy smile lit up Timothée’s face. Armie grabbed his arm and tried to drag him off.

‘Why haven’t you answered me?’

Timothée was kind of liking the grabbing, it showed possession and domination. He flexed his body and let Armie drag him.

Armie dropped the arm. He was silenced by the behaviour.

‘Stop it Timothée…why are you ignoring me?’

‘I am not ignoring you…I am certainly not ignoring you now…’

Timothée had progressed from anxiety to someone aware of the effect he can have on someone. He pressed himself against the car, hips forward he was shaped like a bow, Armie was mesmerised.

‘Your ass is showing.’

‘Not enough.’

Muttered out of the side of his mouth.

Simon shook his head.

Armie walked off, back into the Terminal.

Timothée watched him, his body was preparing to follow him, dick first, he eased off the car and stepped off in pursuit.

‘Wait for us.’

‘’I’m waiting 30 minutes then I am going…’

‘You may as well go then.’

‘What!’

‘Yes go. See you next year, get out the car, I’m gonna give you a hug.’

‘Take your hands off him…’

Armie was jovial.

‘I am nothing to you, fuck off.’

Simon rolled his eyes, got Timothée’s things, gave them to him and drove off.

‘Got a car?’

‘Had a car had a driver. He dropped me off and went.’

‘Didn’t you check?’

‘I went straight to the First Class lounge. Nothing was cancelled.’

‘Alright alright…what are we doing?’

There was a moment, the thought went through both their minds.

‘We are not doing that.’

Armie had spoken.

‘We have been abandoned!’ Timothée mock wailed, he gave Armie a goofy smile.

A part of Armie wanted to say ‘Stupid Boy’, the rest of him wanted to hug him. He was happy. It had been a long time since he had had fun. Everything around him was so serious. The girlfriend business. She was the first one, he only bothered because his agent said people were asking, he had spent a fair number of years going around town as a ‘single’ man, it was OK and then it wasn’t, it went past the bachelor around town to ‘Is he gay?’. He wanted to say what the fuck does it matter? I can play the hetero lover, but he knew that it wasn’t truthful. He really didn’t have it in him to show desire for a woman. It was alright holding hands or putting an arm around a girl but ask him to do anything more and it became stilted, he avoided love scenes, the Directors always made him rehearse love scenes, made him go into a room and kiss the girl off camera and then come back. It didn’t make any difference, he did not find women attractive, that was all there was to it. He had got away with it for a long time. He thought he might take a break, not do another contract, his agent was lining up some twenty year old model come something, who had already been associated with a boy band member who promptly fell in love with one of the backing singers so she was no longer needed, he couldn’t work out what was going on there, if anything the boy band member hadn’t turned straight because he was still ‘roommates’ with the other boy band member he was rumoured to be fucking. It was evident the boy bander had just found a way of ditching a girl that he did not like and would not contract with. Hollywood was fucking weird.

There was nothing going on between him and Mark, he’d played that badly. Flirted outrageously with him, gone out to dinner, went to events, and in reality nothing was happening. And now he had given Timothée the impression that he was the Boyfriend. He scratched his head, a nervous tic, embarrassment or something, felt stupid, he was playing with fire. Mark was a producer, a silent influencer, no social media, a mixer and matcher, knew people, knew who could help with a problem. Actor playing up, knew the gossip and knew how to use it to bring that person inline. Script issues? Had a whole army of people who could jump in and re-write the story over night. Finance looking wrong? He knew someone who could wrangle the numbers. Useful to know, bad idea to play around with. Armie was cultivating him, he had an idea how it looked which was not so good. Then Timothée had turned up in the middle of his courting, halting any thought of actually being with Mark. The boy was causing him any number of problems, he knew he was in lust with him but there was something underneath that, something he didn’t want to admit. He made him happy, it was an unnatural feeling. And he was free, free to date who he liked. Now his problem was that he had no reason to refuse him.

Timothée had taken his arm and was leading him to the cell phone car park, he became alive to what was happening, was he dreaming…they were walking arm in arm in the fucking public.

‘What are you doing...’

‘Hey! Armie Armie!’

Fucking fans.

‘Get off! People can see us’

‘Isn’t that? That boy…the one in that film…you know…yeah…never mind him…Armie! Can we have your autograph? We won’t keep you…please.’

Armie hated fans at that moment.

‘Keep walking…’

‘My luggage…’

‘The driver can go by the terminal, we’ll can pick it up…keep walking…’

‘They might say I am being rude…you are practically holding my hand…’

‘If we stop, we’re fucked.’

Arms still linked they kept walking, the limousine was obvious, they practically ran towards it.

‘Now they are going to know it was me. Where did you get this car from?’

‘Brian.’

They slid in the car, Armie put his hand on Timothée’s thigh supposedly to calm himself, something comforting to hold onto, if he was honest he wanted to keep touching him. It only made Timothée hyper. The knee started bouncing.

‘Can we go to the First Class Private Lounge please, I have some things to pick up.’

‘That’s not helping…’

‘What?’

Timothée was whispering. ‘The hand.’

‘He can’t hear you.’

‘What do you mean he can’t hear me, he heard you.’

‘You are whispering.’

‘Do you want me to talk in my normal voice.’ Said at twice normal volume

‘Why do you have to be such a fucking brat?’

Timothée found this exciting, his ass began wriggling in the seat.

‘There is something wrong with you.’

Timothée was starry and heart eyed.

‘Against my better judgement, I fucking like you.’

‘Really? Although I have a girlfriend and a Boyfriend?’

‘The girlfriend is toast. I want to understand what is happening with the Boyfriend.’

‘Shut up.’

‘What?’

‘Now is not the time.’

They had reached the lounge, the driver parked in the waiting area. Armie had to get out, he needed his id and ticket to fetch his stuff, a porter from the lounge brought it to the car, the driver took the cases from him. He had several cases.

‘What the fuck! Why do you have so much stuff?’

All of it could just about fit in the trunk and in the well of the the fold down seat in front of them. Timothée’s large case was already in the trunk. His hand luggage was on the front seat. iPads and laptops were beside them. They were surrounded by luggage.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Sunset’ Timothée smirked. ‘Never been there before.’ He leant forward.

‘Take us to Sunset Tower. He turned to Armie.

‘What shall we do now?’

The limo was cruising towards Sunset Tower.

‘What do you mean?’

‘How long are we staying?’

‘Hmm…haven’t thought about that, Timothée. How long shall _we_ stay?’

‘You need to check if we can book a room first.’

‘You need to check what is happening at the airport.’

‘Still problems. No flights today.’

Timothée was lying. He had not checked. He wasn’t sure how he was going to keep Armie from checking. He took the simplest route. He put a hand on Armie’s thigh and started stroking, knee to groin, alternatively simple stroking and gentle squeezing. Then transferred the hand to the cock. Armie took it off.

‘Behave.’

He got out his phone and called Sunset Tower.

He knew what was happening at the airport, two could play at that game.

‘Can I speak to a concierge please?’

He spoke some rubbish, chatting up whoever was at the end of the phone, gave his code word and code name, booked that night and started talking about a tentative second night.

Timothée was silently watching the spectacle on the phone. His mouth was gently working, the lips had gone red through sucking, the mouth began to bloom swell, soft, plush, the tongue was rubbing the lips, he began sucking the tongue and moving it in and out of the mouth. Armie’s attention was caught, watching while he talked, he began licking his own lips. The hand had returned to the cock, there was a bit of fidgeting, then the legs opened. Timothée was now rhythmically stroking and rubbing the whole cock, it got hard. The driver started to watch them in the mirror. Armie took the hand off again. His voice was gruff with arousal, he cleared his throat, the driver was still watching, Armie took hold of Timothée’s hand to avoid a return of said hand to his cock. He couldn’t cope, the boy was too much, the driver was watching, Jesus.

‘You are making things…’

‘…hard…’

‘…difficult for me…stop it.’

Timothée slipped the hand out of Armie’s, placed it back on the cock but did not rub it.

‘Mine.’ He said.

Before they got out of the car, Armie had to adjust himself, he tried to pull the trouser flat over his crotch, but the dick was still standing upright. He pulled it towards a pocket, couldn’t get a hand in the pocket, did the best he could.

‘Evening, Archie Grant. I just booked the Union Suite.’

‘Yes sir, do you have your id?’

While Armie managed their arrival and booked into the suite, Timothée got close to him and sneakily placed a hand onto his butt. Got in several strokes before Armie hissed again, this time:

‘Stop it, you little shit’

‘Sorry Sir, what did you want to skip?’

‘I wasn’t talking to you, saying something to my…friend…’

The receptionist held a straight face, she had already recognised Timothée, her job required her to recognise celebrities. She also knew how to keep her mouth shut, whatever was happening here was not normal. A booking for one night, possibly two, Mr Hammer was shifting around on his feet, Mr Chalamet was standing very close, Mr Hammer’s body visibly shuddered twice, he was both standing up and strangely crouched, there too much luggage. She remembered the airport was closed, they were stranded, hence the booking. She thought to ask whether they needed her to check on what was happening at the airport, she knew parts of the network were back up and working, they would probably be able to fly planes that evening, Mr Hammer could in any case afford to hire a private plane if he needed. She kept quiet something told her neither wanted to know.

‘Will you need a double bed in the second bedroom, there’s a king in the main bedroom.’

Timothée was smirking, he looked her straight in the eye.

‘No we won’t. We won’t be using the second bedroom...’ He gave a lascivious wink.

‘Fuck’s sake Timothée.’

He pulled him away from the desk.

‘Go and stand over there.’

‘Where should I stand Baby?’

Timothée’s voice carried over to the receptionist. She did not look up. She got the picture.

‘My friend is very badly behaved, you’ll have to excuse him.’

‘I’m sure you know how to punish me Archie.’

Now Armie was furious.

‘Shut the fuck up.’

Timothée mock groaned.

‘I love it when you get mad.’

Luckily, there was no one else in their area, it was a little way off the main reception area. Private, exclusive, just as well.

The receptionist was full on laughing now.

‘He’s a handful.’

‘In more ways than one.’

She tied his key onto him.

‘Come here Timothée.’

She tied a key disc onto Timothée’s wrist.

‘Fancy.’ He leaned over the counter.

‘How long have you worked here…’

Armie pulled him off the counter.

‘Come on.’

He was variously, aroused, cross, laughing and exasperated. He wanted to get that boy into the room so he could shut him up.

They stood by the far end lift, Timothée hooked arms with him again. This time although he leaned on him, there was something different. He looked into Armie’s face like he wanted to know it and everything about him.

Armie notices and within himself allowed a certain softness, he remembered that there was no reason to pretend, so he didn’t.

‘What’s the matter Timothée? Are you OK?’

‘No. You make me mad. You make me feel things I don’t feel with other people. I want to tease you and I want you to take notice of me. And I don’t know how to do it so that you take me seriously. You make me feel like a child, a child with adult needs. It’s too much.’

Armie smiled.

‘Same.’

Armie glanced around, there wasn’t anyone around, he kissed him slightly.

‘Now take your hands off me. People know us. We can do without gossip.’

When the lift doors shut, Armie took Timothée in his arms and just held him.

‘Can we start now? Start being normal? All that stuff before was stupid.’

He spoke into his hair, he smelt it, he could already tell there was a Timothée smell, he felt like he missed it already.

Timothée opened himself up to Armie, arms around him, melting, his head in Armie’s neck, Armie felt him draw into his body, his nose was brushing his neck, he raised his head, the nose reached just into the crook of the neck right into the heat of veins and glands, it felt right, he places his feet slightly apart and Timothée stepped right into the groove of his body, his feet slid into the created space. They just stood as one, as they left the lift, Armie took his hand.

‘Someone might see us.’

‘Fuck it.’

The other lift door opened, the cases appeared. Armie let go of Timothée’s hand so he could open the door.

‘Wait..just a minute…Shhh.’

The hotel porters brought in their cases, Armie tipped them. They were alone again. Armie lay on the bed, Timothée sat in one of the armchairs.

‘Timothée, seriously, there are times when it is OK to behave how we want and other times when it is isn’t. Be observant. No CCTV on an empty corridor. A lift without a camera. If we are going to be together then there are going to be rules.’

Timothée looked confused.

‘Do you want to be with me?’

‘Of course’

‘You have a Boyfriend.’

‘I don’t.’

Armie gave Timothée time to digest the news, he wanted to laugh at the look on Timothée’s face, a mixture of relief and fury.

‘He’s a key player in Hollywood, he knows a lot of people, he can get things done. I was courting him for usefulness not because I liked him or found him sexually attractive. He’s pleasant and friendly, it’s hard to be rude to him. I never liked him like I like you, as soon as I met you I wanted you.

I had my life sorted, a front with Dannie, regular work, someone on the horizon who could help me with my career and could also be a sexual partner. Happiness was elusive to me. And you came along at a time when there was a legitimate gap, jumped in and fucked everything up. I am fucked.’

‘You have a funny way of showing it, you left me at that event, you didn’t talk with me at the screening, in fact you have been horrible to me. The only reason I am here is that I can’t help myself. I fucking like you Armie Hammer. You make me do terrible things. I never behaved like this before. I behave stupid around you. And then you tell me that you are in love with someone, and you don’t say who, and you behave like you aren’t in love. You slept with me.’

Armie was staring at him. Something like concern was passing across his eyes, the forehead crinkled slightly then smoothed.

‘I was a dick because I wasn’t acknowledging how I felt or what I wanted. I liked Dannie, but that was a contract, she was a business colleague, I was watching out for my career, building business relationships, moving from Dannie to Mark. It’s hard for me Timothée. You are asking me to let go of those connections. It’s like you have come a long and said it’s time to stop. There’s a real life, you just have to stop here, pay attention to me and you’ll know what you really want. That’s fucking hard. I have my routines and ways to deal with my emotional life, you put a bullet through that.

What do you want Timothée?’

He could tell that Timothée was trying really hard to believe him, Armie was telling the truth but the words sounded strange even to him.

‘I wish I could name it. All I know is that I don’t know enough about you, at the moment, it’s a bit well, I don’t know what it is. I want your body, that’s easy, we fit together like that don’t we?’

He turned fierce.

‘You owe me…I was good to you. You had sex with me and didn’t ask if I was satisfied…you held me but I was too shy to ask you to satisfy me. You’re grown you should be looking after me, looking out for my needs. 

Other than that? I don’t know. I think it’ll come right or it won’t. Don’t you? I’ll like to see what that is, what we have.’

Armie felt ashamed. He could tell that Timothée had enjoyed the sex, but he was selfish, he had taken his pleasure and left the boy to find his own.

The boy was articulate, his boy was articulate, he corrected himself again, his potential boyfriend. Timothée acted like a doofus, but it came from a place of truth, there was a side of him that didn’t know how to behave, which he expressed in bratty behaviour, and another side that knew exactly what he wanted and showed a good understanding of how to get it and express it. There was a lot to learn about himself from Timothée.

‘I don’t know what else to say Timothée. Sorry.’

‘I don’t think you mean it…’

‘How can I prove it? Do you want me to leave you alone, to wait before we have sex again? Show that I am not only interested in that?’

‘…ermm’

There was a long pause.

‘Well we don’t exactly have to give that up, just make sure you give me an orgasm, that’s the deal. I know you are going to take yours.’

He was right. Armie always came during sex. He needed it.

‘Come here.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I want to show you something.’

‘No. You want sex. You aren’t getting it.’

Armie walked the short distance to him. Made him stand, put his arms around him and gave him a long kiss, a deep one, one which turned his head off, Timothée couldn’t think straight.

‘I am bamboozled.’

The body was switched on. 

‘You’ve got me feeling things.’

‘Take your clothes off.

‘OK.’

Armie turned the air conditioning down. The room became temperate, comfortable for sex, neither cold or hot.

When he turned round Timothée was laid out on the bed. His cock in his hand, he was stroking it, there was precome already.

‘Sorry my body is anticipating you.

‘Don’t apologise.’

Armie put the Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, it closed with satisfying click.

‘What do you like?’

Timothée turned shy.

‘I don’t know what to ask for. Can we make out?’

‘Put your pants back on.’

‘What? Oh...’

Timothée giggled.

‘We haven’t got popcorn.’

Armie picked up the phone.

‘Can we have six bottles of beer, two hotdogs and some popcorn please?’

A short while later, the food turned up.

‘What shall we watch?’

Armie took the remote, and gave it to Timothée.

‘You choose.’

‘No. You choose.’

‘We can look together.’

Armie switched the TV on, there were three recent films, old as far as they were concerned and a classic. The Social Network.

‘I hate that film…’

They watched it anyway, half way through, Armie started to kiss Timothée’s neck.

‘Not fair… I haven’t seen this all the way through.’

‘Too bad..’ He carried on. A leg locked Timothée to the bed, a hand lifted the band of his Calvin, Armie peeked into the pants.

‘What do we have here?’

The dick began moving, he hadn’t touched it yet,

Timothée began dribbling, he began to suck his lip.

The hand delved into the pants, Armie had large hands it covered Timothée’s junk, he had a good feel. Timothée kept his eyes on the screen, on the bed was the bowl of popcorn, Timothée was popping pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

‘Stop eating, I want to kiss you.

‘Let me rinse my mouth.’

‘Timothée got up. He was a while. He came back, he had obviously spent a little time on his toilette. He smelt very clean.

‘You can resume.’

‘I have to go now.’

When he came back, Timothée was wearing a popcorn crown. He’d sown it with the darning needle and cotton. He was wearing nothing else.

‘Where are the pants, put them back on.’

‘Don’t you like my crown?’

‘Yes, but I want to put my hand in your pants.’

‘You can still do that. We have to sit up for that any way.’

He pulled the light cover off the bed, put his Calvins back on.

‘Come over here.’

There was a sofa, they both got on it. Armie sat at the end in the corner and Timothée snuggled up. Armie removed the crown.

Timothée started to kiss him, he extended a hand under the cover, Armie started groaning.

‘Shut up. You have to pretend we are in a cinema. No groaning or talking or any noise.’

So the only sounds that were heard were from the film, lips and tongues as they kissed. Timothée stopped kissing Armie and continued rubbing him through his pants, they were looking at each other the film forgotten, Armie glanced down, his dick was erect, held Timothée’s gaze again, nodded and swung his legs down, Timothée climbed on. The hands became mutual.

‘What happens when we…’

‘Shh…’

‘We might move to the bed. Let’s see what happens. Do you have any lube?’

‘That rather anticipating what will happen.’

‘No it’s not, I want you to fuck me.’

‘Get up.’

Armie got up and started opening cases, then rummaging through them.

‘Where the fuck is it?’

‘There’s some in my washbag.’

‘Where is it? Ah! Found it.’

He put it on the side table.

‘Where were we?’

The kissing resumed.

‘We don’t need lube, you’re wet Armie.’

Armie blushed.

‘You are fucking hot…your body…I’m not normally like this, I don’t know what’s happening to me.’

Timothée sat on the dick and used his ass to rub it.

Armie’s hand was in his pants, he had got Timothée hard too.

‘Take off your pants, sit on it.’

‘Sit on what?’

‘Don’t fucking play with me, get on the dick.’

‘Oh…so now you are telling me what to do?’

‘Get off.’ He stood up.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Are you starting?’

‘Starting what? This?’

Timothée glanced up, he was wearing a winsome smile. pulled down Armie’s pants, pulled the hard cock free and started sucking on it. He took as much of it down into his mouth as he could. A good deal of the dick disappeared into his mouth. It had been right in front of him, he could not resist.

Armie let out a long groan, his head rolled back even though he was standing. He uttered some words.

‘Don’t tell me to shut up.’

‘My mouth is full, I cannot tell you anything.’

Spoken around the dick, the words were barely legible. Armie was in heaven. Timothée pulled off, then started licking and sucking the crown.

‘Can you sit on it please.’

Armie was begging. Timothée made him wait, he reached round and placed a finger in Armie’s hole, withdrew it, spat on it and slid it in and out. By now Armie was a mess. The orgasm felt like it was sitting waiting for the next stage of proceedings. He pulled himself out of Timothée’s mouth and sat on the sofa.

Beckoned Timothée, who backed up and hitched a leg ready to drop onto the dick.

‘Wait. That looks nice.’

Armie pressed a hand on the cradle of his hips to tip him over, spread him and began eating him out.

There was some sounds, humming, moaning, vocalising and a calling of Armie’s name.

Armie licked the balls, swiped ball to hole. Everything was accessible. Then stopped when something occurred to him.

‘You are supposed to be quiet.’

‘We aren’t making out…we are beyond that…we couldn’t do this in a cinema…

Armie carried on licking and sucking, raised the leg and bit him underneath, sucked it so it hurt, the dick stuck straight out in front, pulled it down and stroked it.

‘Oh my God…that is…Fuck…oh Christ…’

Timothée groaned as Armie let go, spread him again, used his tongue to enter him and took hold of the cock again. The hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere, all over his cock, hole and balls.

‘I want to come Armie.’

‘Let me suck you.’

‘I want to come, you can’t fuck me.’

‘OK. Turn round.’

Armie obliged, opened his throat and made him come with the whole of his mouth, Timothée held onto his hair, fucked his mouth, praised his technique and made a kind of stumbling lisping sound as he came. All at the same time.

They got back into bed, taking the cover with them. Timothée and Armie wrapped themselves in each other. They carried on making out, kissing and stroking bodies, Timothée couldn’t take any touch on the dick it was sensitive and the bite was still biting him; he felt a mixture of arousal, pain and contentment.

But Armie’s dick was still hard, it kept poking him, reminding him. He had to deal with it.

‘Lie on your back Armie’

Timothée scooted down between his legs, took the dick in his hand, rolled it with one hand, pulled the balls with the other and got the slit into his mouth. He sucked it extremely hard. Very quickly Armie stroked his shoulder.

‘Timothée.’ He sighed, gulped, groaned and let everything go.

As Armie had done for him, Timothée swallowed all that Armie had offered up.

‘I think we are quits.’

Someone said it, it didn’t matter who.

Timothée squeezed Armie’s ass, stroked it, and gently slapped it. He rolled over and put his own ass onto Armie’s softening cock. He settled, pulled Armie’s arm over him, cradled his hand in his. Armie lifted his leg, resting it on Timothée’s hip and pushed his cock forward. Timothée opened his legs so Armie’s cock was firmly enclosed, he squeezed it with something. Armie groaned again.

The squeezing became pumping, it hurt but it felt so good he couldn’t stop him.

‘Tomorrow I am going to fuck you…Just warning you.

…and you still haven’t told me who you are in love with…’

‘

**Author's Note:**

> This is of course FICTION.


End file.
